


Willing to Do Anything to Calm the Storm in My Heart

by etcetera_kit



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:12:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9357941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etcetera_kit/pseuds/etcetera_kit
Summary: For the first time in his life, Cassian Andor wished he knew what tomorrow would bring.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Not a fix-it fic (love reading them, but have such mixed feelings writing them myself), but I love these two together. Long-time fan fic writer, but first foray into Star Wars (but life-long Star Wars fan.) To sum up, enjoy!

**Willing to Do Anything to Calm the Storm in My Heart**

_Might need you to hold me tonight  
Might need you to say it’s all right_

For the first time in his life, Cassian Andor wished he knew what tomorrow would bring. He’d been part of the Rebellion since he was six years old and had fought since he was old enough to hold a blaster with some chance of making it out of a skirmish alive. He knew nothing but fighting, hard-to-swallow orders, doing a lot of bad in hopes that a little good would come, and near-suicide missions. He survived the first mission, and the second, and another and another, but he was not naïve enough to believe that made him invincible. He’d seen better soldiers—better men—than him lose their lives to one stray blaster pulse or a piece of shrapnel. He had no illusions that he was any different.

But, now, he knew they needed to go to Scarif. He knew that getting the plans for the Death Star was more important than any Council decision. The Empire had a weapon that could eliminate entire planets. What chance did they have once that weapon was fully functional? They’d seen what the weapon did to Jedha City. What more evidence did they need?

And yet, a piece of him wanted to forget the mission, go to some remote planet where they had all the time in the world, far away from the Rebellion and the Empire.

They should be in a bedroom, in a house on a planet with lots of trees and green. Sunlight should be streaming through the large windows. They should be able to take their time, remove each piece of clothing slowly, memorizing each other’s bodies. They should be on a silken sheets and the air around them should have been cool, maybe a little damp, like the forest after a rain storm. Their house would be fairly isolated, far enough from a city that they had privacy, but not so far away that getting supplies or going to have a drink was a burden. He knew of a few worlds that could fill that desire.

But instead, they were in the back of a large supply closet, on a dirty floor with nothing but his jacket to soften the hard concrete. The closet was hot and dusty, as climate controls did not extend to areas were non-perishable supplies were held. And they should definitely have had more than an hour before getting back on the ship and going to Scarif.

Jyn had grabbed his arm as he was helping Bodhi prepare the ship for take-off. The look in her eyes had been dark and unreadable. She’d only ever looked at him with wariness or anger before. Her anger from Eadu seemed to have faded since she realized he did not pull the trigger and since he gathered a group who believed going to Scarif was the correct thing to do, Council be damned. He just allowed her to lead him away from the ship and into a corridor empty of people. 

And then she surprised him by pressing her lips to his. He was so shocked that, for a moment, he forgot to respond. She pulled away after a moment, looking embarrassed and flustered. He absolutely could not tolerate that, so his brain started working again, and he grasped her upper arms, pulling her close to him and continuing the kiss. Her lips were warm and soft, and he felt electricity running down his spine, straight to his groin. He hadn’t been with anyone in a long time. He deepened the kiss, tongues battling for dominance and teeth clashing, as the kiss became uncoordinated and absolute heaven.

When they broke apart to breath, Jyn stayed in his personal space, one hand coming up to trace his jawline, ultimately going to tangle in his hair. “Is this all right?” she asked breathlessly. 

“This is perfect,” he replied.

He threaded his fingers through hers and led her down the hallway. “Where are we going?” she asked, hand that had previously been in his hair going to grasp the wrist of his hand, the hand holding hers, like she wanted to be completely tethered to him.

“Some place more private,” he murmured.

The first place he came across that was close and would offer them the semblance of privacy was this supply closet. She didn’t question the random closet, just followed as he walked in and continued to hold his hand and wrist as he overrode the lock. Someone higher ranking than him could still get in, but that would buy them some time if a random private came through looking for whatever was in this closet. (He honestly didn’t know.)

The floor was hard and unyielding beneath his knees and elbows as he leaned over her, pushing her hair out of her eyes and continuing to kiss her deeply. The first thing she had done once they got to the back of the closet was shed her boots, and he had done the same, clearly getting the message that she wanted more than a quick tumble back here.

An hour felt like a long time, but also no time at all.

He pressed kisses along her jawline, down to her neck and her exposed shoulder. She moaned, deep in her throat, when he gently sucked the skin where her shoulder and neck met. He’d gotten her vest and shirt off to expose her black camisole, and she had managed to get his shirt off in between fiery kisses, but other than that, and the boots, they were still mostly clothed.

“Jyn,” he damn near moaned in between kisses.

He wanted to tell her something, anything. That she had captivated him from the first moment he saw her. That she packed a hell of a punch. That he understood her, because he’d seen plenty of people with no allegiance to the Rebellion or the Empire. But for her, she’d lost everything. First her parents and then Saw abandoned her, so she ran from everything. The Rebellion and the Empire had done nothing for her, so why should she concern herself with their problems?

_“You aren’t the only one who lost everything. Some of us just decided to do something about it.”_

And that was it, wasn’t it? He’d fought—hard—for everything he had. In some twisted way, maybe he viewed her as a kindred spirit, someone who understood was losing their entire family at a young age meant. His own parents and younger brother had been collateral damage in a war they didn’t ask to be a part of. They’d lived on a peaceful farming planet until the Empire came in to strip the planet for resources. Most of the farmers resisted, his parents included. Six years old, an orphan, and taken away from everything he’d ever known, by an uncle who he’d never met, to be raised in some Rebellion installation and handed a blaster before age ten.

This closet, this floor—this was wrong. For the first time since his parents died, Cassian found himself wishing for so much more.

He pulled back from her infinitesimally. She began kissing along his jawline to his neck. 

“Jyn, I—“

She frowned, moving so she could look at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked, voice rougher than usual, just a little hoarse, lips kiss-swollen and perfect. Her eyes flickered across his face and then met his gaze. “I have the implant.”

“It’s not that,” he said quickly.

“Then what?” 

She looked truly patient, like she was willing to wait until he said whatever was on his mind. So unlike everything he knew about her. She gently cupped his cheek. He turned his head to press a kiss to her palm, taking that hand and threading his fingers through hers.

But how to even tell her? Tell her that he wanted this to last forever, that he was tired of fighting and terrible things, and… 

“I wish we had more time,” he finally said softly.

She leaned up, capturing his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. “Me too,” she replied just as quietly. She sat up, resting her forehead against his, one hand on the back of his neck. “You’re a good man.”

He couldn’t stop the self-deprecating noise he made at that statement.

“What?” she asked, small smile on her lips.

“I’m anything but that.”

She kissed him again. “I don’t know,” she replied, voice musing. Another kiss. “You didn’t pull the trigger. You tried to stop the fleet.” Two more kisses. He hung onto the last one. “And you recruited a rogue team to go to Scarif, against all common sense.” A longer, open-mouthed kiss.

“I would have liked more time to know you,” he replied.

She didn’t reply, just kissed him, their joined hands coming apart so she could wrap both arms around his shoulders, sitting up completely and crawling into his lap, pushing him against the floor. And she didn’t speak about how they were not coming back from Scarif. Sure, they had an escape plan. They always had an escape plan—go out on the same shuttle they came in on. But Scarif was heavily guarded and just getting to the plans was slim. They could get lucky. He’d gotten lucky before. But luck was a fickle thing. And why? Just when he found someone he really wanted to be with, to find out if there was a future for them, and not just him.

Her chest pressed against his, and he felt her breasts through her camisole. His hands went to the bottom hem of the camisole, pulling the thin garment up and over her head. She was bared to him from the waist up. He let out a shuddering breath. Her skin was warm and soft, and he cupped one of her breasts, thumb coming up to flick her nipple. She gasped, and then pushed against him, hips grinding down on his own. Everything was hot and so, so good. He captured her lips, pressing a bruising kiss. She mewled deep in back of her throat.

He took a moment to realize that her hands were scrabbling at his belt buckle.

“No, you don’t,” he growled, hands going to her waist and pushing her back against the floor.

“Cassian,” she moaned as he made quick work of her belt and pants, pushing them off her hips and pulling them off her legs.

She brought her legs around his waist, gripping tightly and grinding against him. He groaned, her heat enough for him to go from warming up to hard without warning. He hadn’t had time for anything like this, since, well, a long time. Jyn made him want to the point where he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go faster or slow down and savor the moment. He felt a pang of regret, knowing he’d most likely never be able to spend more time with her, figure out exactly what she liked, how to drive her wild with desire. He had no doubts he could, but would there even be a second chance?

He pressed kisses into her shoulder, lightly sucking at the skin of her collarbone. He used one elbow to prop himself over her on the floor, and used his other hand to work inside her underwear, palming her. She was hot and wet. He slipped one finger inside her, thumb coming up to flick her clit. She keened, back coming off the floor, more warmth between her legs. He wanted to taste her, to push her over the edge on his mouth and fingers. She’d swear prettily and accuse him of teasing her, but he’d get an arm across her hips to slow her down, make the moment last.

“Hurry up,” she moaned.

He added a second finger, thumb still circling. She gasped, shaky. He couldn’t stop the smile.

She glared.

“You’re enjoying this.”

He captured her lips again.

“Should I not be?”

Before she could reply, he sat back on his knees, dislodging her legs from around him. He moved his hand, and she made a needy noise at the loss. He grabbed the underwear, pulling them down and off her legs. Now she was completely open and bare to him, and he made no secret of looking his fill. She was long legs and taunt muscles, hair spilling out of the bun and fanning on the floor. He could look at her like this all day, pupils blown wide with desire, lips swollen, cheeks stained pink, chest heaving as she fought for equilibrium. 

Her hands reached towards his belt again. Before she could, he made quick work of undoing his belt, ridding himself of his pants and shorts in one swift movement, even if he did have to do a weird hop to get everything completely off. Now she took her turn enjoying the view, one hand reaching out and resting, hot, on his lower stomach, fingers gently brushing the fine trail of hair that went south to his throbbing erection. She didn’t quit touch him where he wanted, but that was okay. That was fine. They didn’t need to rush—he didn’t want to rush.

Except that they did need to rush.

He only had a vague sense for how much time has passed since they got in this closet, but time was running short. Soon enough, he’d start getting frantic pages on his comm, wanting to know where he was, if he’d seen Jyn, what was going on. They needed to hurry. He hated that.

Jyn pulled him back. He settled between her legs as she opened up, made room for him once again. One of her hands tangled in his hair, while the other rested on the back of his neck. She pulled him in for a kiss, longer, sweeter and less rushed than the ones before. He met her, gently nipping her lower lip and chasing her tongue. The kiss slowly deepened, becoming less coordinated and more about need and desire. He could imagine times like this, just kissing one another, no hurry in the galaxy, just one rainy afternoon. They could simply kiss or perhaps things would turn carnal. Either outcome was fine, they were together.

“Jyn,” he muttered when they broke apart for breath.

She just smiled at him. She glanced pointedly between their bodies. Their hips were grinding against each other, but he hadn’t actually entered her. Her raised eyebrow seemed to ask him if he was planning to do anything about this.

He backed up some, finally sinking into her, all velvet heat, so, so good. She moaned as he filled her, back arching again off the floor, nails digging into his shoulder.

And he could see it, as he began to move, her legs tightening around his waist, he really could. The dim afternoon sunlight filled the room, spots of sunlight filtered through trees, the cool, damp breeze blowing through the open windows. And they were just like this, moving together, quiet, breathing heavily, a small gasp or a moan the only thing breaking the silence. The sheets were rumbled, blankets pushed carelessly to the foot of the bed. The only difference was time.

“Cassian,” she moaned, lips crashing into his for a messy, uncoordinated kiss.

He met her for the kiss, changing angles and speeding up a little. By her gasps and mewling, she approved of the change. She was so good. He’d never have the time to analyze if this was amazing because the sex truly was, or because he was head over heels for her. (He was not in love. He was Cassian Andor, Rebel Intelligence. Intelligence officers did not fall into love. The life of a spy was not meant for love. He did not love Jyn. He respected her, and was intrigued by her, and… he could not admit the truth, the simple truth that he was in love with her. He’d fallen hard and fallen fast. He wondered if she could ever love him too, if she felt as strongly as he did.)

Maybe there was a chance, a small chance, that they would come back. Broken and scarred, but alive, able to walk away and be together. He refused to think about their lack of soldiers, too few to take a base like Scarif. He refused to think about their plan that meant most of them would die. Refused to think about that sacrifice being justified because the Empire could take down planets, whole planets. The Council wanted to surrender, hide, run away. He could not. He was not going to let the war he’d been fighting his entire life be over in a blink. He was not. He could not.

And Jyn, face flushed a pretty shade of pink, mouth open in a soundless gasp. She was brave and beautiful and determined. He knew now that he’d follow her anywhere.

Distantly, he thought he heard his comm go off. He thought he heard Kay asking about diagnostics for the ship or was he asking about coordinates for Scarif? Cassian was not sure. A roaring filled his ears and he pushed all thoughts of the comm out of his mind. Jyn clearly hadn’t heard the noise. Or she might have, by the way she tightened her grip on him. If the noise had been real, the droid didn’t need anything important, so he didn’t feel bad ignoring the question.

He reached between their bodies, fingers finding her sweet spot again. He was close, he could feel his entire body tightening, and she was breathing quickly, fingers in his hair, balancing the fine point between pain and pleasure. She came with a sharp gasp, body trembling around him. He followed her over the edge a moment later, barely holding himself up as he rode out the waves of pleasure.

They were still for a few moments. His weight was almost entirely on her, face pressed to the crook of her neck and shoulder. She didn’t complain, just kept her arms and legs wrapped around him.

When their breathing evened out towards normal, he moved slowly, pulling out of her. He gently nudged her to roll onto her side and she went easily. He settled behind her, one arm around her waist, holding her close. Their legs tangled easily. She rested her arm over his.

He could stay like this forever, just feeling her skin against his, just listening to her breath.

“Cassian?” she asked, after what felt like a second and an eternity.

“Hmm?” he replied, feeling boneless and relaxed.

“Did your comm go off?”

“I don’t know.” He shift slightly, pulling her even closer. “I could stay here forever.”

She laughed. “On this floor.”

He nudged her gently with his foot. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” She rolled over, facing him, but staying in his arms. “I care about you a lot, Cassian,” she said softly, fingers tracing his jawline again. “I don’t know why. You’re kind of an ass sometimes.”

He smiled. “I care about you too.”

Her expression clouded. “We aren’t coming back.” The phrase was not a question, and she did not sound resigned to a fate, just stating a simple fact.

He could have told her that he’d seen people get out of closer situations, that he’d gotten out of things by sheer luck or coincidence, but he couldn’t bring himself to say any of those things. If they had hundreds of soldiers, they might have a chance of walking out alive. But they had a few dozen. If they had an entire fleet of ships, maybe. But they just had the stolen Imperial cargo ship. This was worse going in than anything he’d ever done. What had he told her? Rebellions are built on hope. 

“I don’t know,” he finally answered.

She just gazed at him for a long moment, before finally pulling him close and kissing him. There was passion and fire and need in that kiss, like they both wanted to find a lifetime of kisses in one.

His comm went off and he registered it this time.

Kay, telling him they were ready to leave.

Neither of them complained or grumbled about wanting more time. They simply got dressed once more, doing their best to make themselves presentable. Jyn re-secured her hair and then ran her fingers through his, flattening the strands as best she could. Before he could open the door to the closet, Jyn leaned up and they had one last sweet, chaste kiss. One last time before they left this closet and had to be in charge of a mission to save the whole galaxy.

They left the supply closet and walked towards the shuttle, towards Scarif.

Fin.  
16 January 2017


End file.
